Page 18 of Unrivaled

Does Tiffany know I’m the father?

I think over the two times I’ve seen her this semester—when she barely looked at me and scurried away when I saw her with Jackson near the communications building and the game night at Jackson’s where she got pissed at me and left.

Holding onto a high school rivalry doesn’t seem like a reason to act like that, especially not for the queen bee of Edgewood High School, the head cheerleader with her high school movie stereotype of dating the star quarterback.

But if she knows it’s me and doesn’t want me in her life, I could just … stay away. Take the easy out. Pretend Jackson didn’t say anything, that I’m still blissfully ignorant, focus on my career and go wherever the draft takes me in a few months.

Even as I think of the possibility, my gut twists with anger and disgust. I’d be off making bank as a professional football player, while my kid and his mom struggle? What kind of miserable asshole would that make me, knowing they’re out there, knowing they’re entitled to my help, and me just … pretending not to know?

The worst. That would make me the worst kind of asshole.

Savage determination takes over, and I swivel and head for the door, taking purposeful strides toward my car after locking the house behind me.

I’m going to find out the truth. And since Jackson’s so eager to stick his nose in our business, he’ll be the first one to help me.

* * *

“I need Tiffany’s number,” I bark as I enter Jackson’s house without knocking.

Eli sits up straighter on the couch, pausing whatever he’s watching. “Huh? Who’s Tiffany?”

“Where’s Jackson?”

Brows pulling together in confusion, Eli shrugs. “Dunno, man. I thought you guys were working out together. You should’ve seen him more recently than me.”

Growling deep in my throat, I pull my phone out of my shorts pocket and fire off a text to Jackson.

“You alright, Gray?” Eli asks carefully.

I shake my head in a firm negative. I am absolutely not alright. An H-bomb just dropped in my lap, and I’m surprised I haven’t vaporized already.

No, instead I’m going to have to disable the damn thing and figure out how to deal with the new version of reality I’m facing. But to do that, I need to get ahold of Tiffany and find out if her kid is mine.

My phone vibrates in my hand.

Jackson: Be there in 10

“Do you need something?” Eli asks. “We’ve got snacks and drinks in the kitchen. Help yourself if you need anything.”

Sighing, I drop my head back, trying to rein myself in. Eli doesn’t deserve my freak out. And if I’m planning on confronting Tiffany, I need to calm down so she doesn’t feel threatened or something.

If she’s been deliberately keeping him from me all this time, then … just showing up will probably send her running.

But where would she go? She’s from here. If she never left, it’s likely because her support system is here. I imagine she’d need help raising a kid on her own, especially if she’s going to school. Does she work too? How does she get money?

A vision of her living in a squalid shoebox apartment flits through my head, making my stomach turn.

I mean, my place is little more than a shoebox. But it’s just for me, and I barely spend any time there. It’s a place to sleep and change clothes and do homework. And if I get sick of it, I can go to the library or come here to do homework. Or go to my parents’ house. I’m not raising a kid.

Conscious of Eli’s gaze following me, I stumble into Jackson and Eli’s kitchen. He’s probably wondering what the fuck is wrong with me, but I can’t handle my own issues right now. I definitely don’t have the mental space to make him feel better.

Grabbing a glass out of the cupboard, I fill it with water from the sink and suck it down, hoping it’ll calm the roiling nausea in my gut. It doesn’t really, but it does force me to regulate my breathing so I don’t choke.

And I do need a snack. I’d normally have the chicken I made for this purpose at the beginning of the week, but I’m not at home, so I’ll find something here.

Opening the closet door on their pantry, I settle on a chocolate peanut butter protein bar, tearing open the package and taking a huge bite.

That was a mistake. My mouth is dry despite the water I just drank, and chewing is nearly impossible. Refilling the glass, I take a little sip, which makes it a big, slimy mass in my mouth, but I manage to choke the thing down.

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